"How much to El Ma’adi?"

Margaret was again on the haggling front-foot, this time the taxi-driver was the spit of Peter Sellers. In fact he very much reminded me of his "Mr Birdie Num Nums" character from the 1968 flick, The Party. I know the character in the film was of Indian descent, but this guys uncanny accent and resemblance to the comic genius was quite amusing. Okay, it was late.

Mr Sellers: "80 Egyptian Pound, madam!"

Us: "Fine, let’s go!"

In retrospect, this was well over priced and hasty from our side, but our flight from Luxor to Cairo was a late one, and that was compounded by waiting an eternity for our luggage to materialise on the carousel in Terminal 1. In short, there was no haggling fight. It was a case of foregoing the equivalent of 4 GBP, just to be out of the airport and on our way to our hotel. This was hasty as I said, as giving an experienced haggler quarter so early, usually means they will push for more of a deal. We approached the little black Lada, thinking "What have we done?".  Our first suit-case fitted in the boot, the second and largest had to go on top in a makeshift rack, the bulky red suitcase almost dwarfing the roof of the car. Sitting inside the cab, the petrol fumes were exceptionally overpowering. And, no surprises, there was not a seat belt in sight. Margaret and I looked at one another, grinned and acknowledged this is one of those travel moments you just need to embrace and get on with.

Peter Sellers, sat in the cab, and quipped.

"I just need to get one more passenger, to cover the 10EGP parking fee!".

Clearly, this Cairenne chancer thought his luck was in. He had two people who hadn’t even haggled, and were paying over the odds. There was bound to be one more gullible guppy to fry in that airport. This is the reason why, you never give any mileage to a haggler, because sure enough they will introduce a sub-clause or two into the deal, and before you know it, you are sitting in the back of a mobile Molotov cocktail with a donkey on your lap. But, despite our mistake, Margaret recovered quickly. Before the driver even made for his door handle to go in search of another gullible punter, Margaret was out with a fiery retort, which if any hotter would have ignited this Lada and done the motoring industry a favour.

Margaret: "Right, we are leaving!"

Margaret had opened the door and was half out the taxi and I was making for the same.

Mr Sellers, clearly seeing he was dealing with a haggling contender after all, capitulated, and said.

Mr Sellers: "Right, of course madam, whatever you want!"

He then spent the next 20 minutes trying to get this wee camel’s-fart of a cab out of the grid-lock that was otherwise known as the Cairo domestic terminal car park. A near impossible feat as it appeared traffic was hemming us in from all sides. Eventually, we managed to escape it, much to the delight of Mr Sellers. As we left the airport terminal, the traditional tourist greeting was given… "Welcome to Egypt!" This is usually followed by the ever helpful driver pointing out places of interest. In doing so he gives grounds for Baksheesh. Fortunately, we had done the run already and I had paid attention to the landmarks. There’s nothing more annoying than having a little ginger smart-arse in the back of your taxi-cab, I’m sure the Egyptian taxi driver hand-book says ….. Yes that would the Baron Palace on our left"…..With that little revenue avenue annihilated, our driver requested if we had a hotel. "Yes, we do, the Sofitel Maadi. Take us there!". I was expecting an offer of a better hotel, but none came. There are a number of taxi-driver sponsored hotel scams in Cairo, according to the Lonely Planet, so we were braced for yet another verbal assault that in the end was unnecessary.

A few minutes into the ride and still within the bounds of the airport, Mr Sellers pulls over. "Here comes the rub", I thought. Actually, it turned out that our red suit case was sliding in the roof rack, and for fear of it falling off (and concussing an innocent donkey) he put it in the front passenger seat. How he would have dealt with another passenger beggars belief! Failing that little incident, the major issue with the journey was the fact that it appeared we had the slowest Lada in the Cairo fleet, which only compounded our exposure to petrol poisoning. It literally chugged away, almost petering out as it reached the height of the incline passing the Citadel. I doubt very much the petrol was unleaded, which corroborates my theory that Egyptian drivers are off their nut due to lead ingestion. We arrived at our hotel in one piece, grateful for the relatively fresh air, heads pounding from the fumes. I gave him his 80 EGP, and walked sharply to the hotel entrance before he had time to whinge about his 10EGP parking fee. We had already paid over the odds, and I was doubly annoyed at not being asked if I’d have liked some "Birdie Num Nums!"

Less than 8 hours later and we were flagging down another black Lada in the morning Cairo heat. We had one final point of interest on our list, and that was the Egyptian museum. More of a haggle this time. Margaret, a Jedi master in the art of the haggle now. Literally, whatever price she said, the driver supplicated.

Margaret: "You will take us to the Egyptian museum for 20 Egyptian pounds, and pay us 10EGP Baksheesh for the trouble!" (okay a bit of a stretch)

Taxi Driver: "Yes, madam!"

Our taxi ride was surprisingly fine, and it was fascinating to watch all the hustle and bustle of Cairo down-town traffic. The only problem came to the drop off. Our taxi, could only leave us across the road from the museum. Not a problem in most other cities, just use the nearest pedestrian crossing or underpass. In Cairo, they do not exist.

Question: "Why did the Cairenne cross the road?"

Answer: "Because he/she was a nut-bag!"

It is a veritable game of Frogger attempting to cross a Cairo street. And the only way of getting across is, not by anticipating a break in the unrelenting traffic, but by waiting for some locals to make the run, use them as human shields, and be damn quick about it. Or, in the most unlikely of circumstances, a kindly Cairenne man will escort you across, without even the tiniest thought of Baksheesh! That is how we managed to cross the road over to the pink countenance that is the Egyptian museum.

My only regret for the day, is that I didn’t bring my D/SLR with me. Much of the literature about the Egyptian museum suggested that cameras could not be taken into the building, and that they needed to be left at the cloak room. Not wanting to leave my camera there, we brought out our Canon Digital Elph instead. As it happened there was no cloak room. We went through a couple of security checks, and you were simply informed that photography was strictly forbidden. Where to start in the Egyptian museum? We used the Lonely Planet as our guide-book, it had a great section on the various floors and exhibits in the museum. Basically, the bottom floor contained relics from the Old Kingdom, and the 1st floor contained exhibits from the Middle and New Kingdoms.

Egyptian Museum, Cairo

After Tutankhamun we opted to pay the extra 100EGP each, to visit the Royal Mummy room. Now, this was a bizarre experience. It was like walking through an ancient morgue come mummy zoo. While it was fascinating to see virtually all of the Pharaohs mummies whose tombs and temples we had raided in Luxor, you couldn’t help but wonder that this was not much of a happy repose. The mummies that stood out for me the most, are firstly, Tuthmosis III, for the horrible rictus that is splayed across the poor Pharaoh’s face. Next, the recent find of Queen Hatshepsut, was a stand-out, primarily because she was obese. Finally, Ramses II, and his yellowing wisps of hair, will always be memorable, particularly given how the prolific this Pharaoh was. All the mummies had their arms crossed indicating they were royal. We came out of the room torn like the tatters of a veritable mummy’s shroud. On one hand we were glad to have seen the mummies. It is incredible how well preserved they are after circa 3,000 years. On the other hand, we like all the other tourist hoards were oohing and aahing around a bunch of corpses. If we did that in a modern day cemetery you’d be jailed for desecration.  Strange, how quickly your attitudes to the dead change once they have a couple of thousand years under their cassock.

Afterwards we visited the Animal Mummy room. This was very cool. Most impressive was the 8 metre long mummified crocodile. Incredible. Everything from mummified monkeys, to dogs, and even a gazelle. The Pharaoh’s certainly liked their pets. Perhaps, the most important point it raised was to the geographic distribution of certain species of animals in Egypt during the height of the various Pharaoh dynasties. All mummied out, we headed downstairs and took in the relics of the Old Kingdom. Statue after statue, it was a mind boggling experience. We spent at least 3 hours in the museum, and you could easily spend a day. But, we had seen what we wanted to see, and so happily left, not before taking a quick bite in it’s cafeteria.

After our Egyptian museum experience we wanted to avail more of the true Cairo experience. Braving the traffic gauntlet once more we crossed the road under the shadow of some local traffic lemmings. We cut into a side street in search of a street called Orabi. It was like another world entirely. Clearly, western tourists didn’t frequent the side streets that much. One street resembled an open-air garage. Knackered banger after dodgy car lined this one particular street. The only thing distinguishing the image from a war zone, being that of the intermittent huddles of Egyptian men, discussing the finer points of Lada engineering over Turkish coffee. I jest! There were more car models from the automobile summer of 66 present in this street. A little more sobering further down the road when we came across what appeared to be a 3 year old girl, sitting by herself on a street corner. Innocent eyes matted and face pocked with dried scabs. It certainly brought home the immense poverty that exists in the city.

Running the Cairo Gauntlet, Midan Ramses, Cairo  (Note the Black Lada)

Cairo Market

Before finding Orabi we came across a  market. The locals for the most part were friendly, offering to help and calling out "Welcome" and "Beautiful" to Margaret. One such offer even extended to me taking a man back to my home country, to wed a sister if I had one. All good humour and we kept going. After passing a number of Sheesha (Egyptian water-pipe) cafes, we found Orabi and eventually the cafe that we were actually looking for. Al Tabie – Ad Dumyati was the name of the place, although we had to check with some standers by as we didn’t quite grasp written Arabic. It was essentially an Egyptian fast-food joint, and we had a fine meal of shawerma (shaved meat), falafal, unleavened bread, and a concoction of beans and olive oil. It was kind of surreal, being the only Westerners sitting amongst a bunch of locals as they took in their lunch.  I still live to write this tale, so I guess the food could not have been that bad.

After lunch, we headed up to Midan Ramses, one of the major areas of the the Northern down-town of Cairo. It’s most notable land-mark is the minaret of the Al-Fath mosque. We hung around here for a while, watching the locals. But eventually, we decided to hail a Lada antiquity once more, to avoid the toothless grin of a Turkish coffee wielding local of the putrid persuasion. So, we were back at our hotel. Hours later, at 4:20am, as the reverberating sounding off of the Muezzins consumed Cairo, we were on route to Cairo international terminal in a limousine. This was actually quite a nice car. The driver Mahmoud, spoke fantastic English, (which was embarrassing because my Arabic was rubbish) and we arrived at the airport without any story of note. It was an amazing week of sun, relaxation and Pharaoh revelations, and one I’d highly recommend. Egypt is incredible! I took this parting shot of the Cairo landscape from the air as the British Airways flight made it’s way London bound. Note the Nile in the top-left corner.

Farewell Cairo 

Another early start. 5am in fact. After breakfast we found ourselves in one of those blue and white Luxor bangers which somehow pass for a taxi. It was literally a few minutes drive from the Sofitel Karnak, along the Nile Cornish to the vast site of the Temple of Amun, or as is often referred, Karnak Temple. After much debate with the hotel concierge the night before, we managed to glean that the temple opened to the public at 6am. So we decided to arrive as early as possible, firstly to make the most of the amenable temperature at that hour, secondly to avoid the inevitable tourist bus surge, and thirdly, I wanted to make the most of the light for photos. 

With the exception of tourist police and other officials, the 260,000 square metre site that hosts Karnak temple was deserted at this hour. The sun had barely breached the eastern horizon, and Margaret and I literally had the place to ourselves. After purchasing the tickets we made our way along the date-palm lined concourse to the temple entrance, one that is not easily missed, because of the security check-point and the surreal guard-of-honour you enjoy when walking down the avenue of rams-headed sphinxes towards the 1st Pylon and soon after into the Great Court.

The Great Court was deserted, well almost. The jackal-headed God and guardian of the dead, Anubis, must have certainly been present, as at the feet of some headless rams-headed sphinxes were two jackals playing. We had previously seen jackals on safari in Tanzania, but to see them amongst these ancient ruins was truly iconic. Anubis is depicted in many of the tomb relief works we had previously seen on our visit to the Valley of the Kings and Queens.

Early morning Anubis ritual, Temple of Amun, Karnak

Perhaps my only regret was not having a bigger lens than my 300mm on hand. I shot these jackals from about 20-30 metres away, and I know the latter image could be sharper. Retrospect, says a monopod would have served me well. The jackals must have been frolicking for about 2 minutes, scampering behind the sphinxes and then back again, before finally disappearing beyond the Great Court colonnade.  That was really cool, and one we would not have seen if not for us being first into the temple. Best part was that there was no Baksheesh required.

It wasn’t long before a Baksheesh moment arrived though. One of the armed tourism police invited us to take a look at the remains of a statue of Ramses II. All that remained of this statue were his feet. Idea was that you stand in the feet of Ramses II and get a photo. We did it reluctantly, but hey he was armed. I tried to flog him 1 EGP for his feigned troubles, but he informed that that wasn’t very much for the painstaking effort he had gone too, and mum he had a Kalashnikov. So I gave him 10 EGP (that’s just under a quid), and he was on his merry way. From that point onward we had a steely resolve to avoid all requests.

Beyond the Great Court and 2nd Pylon was one of the most remarkable feats of construction I think I’ve ever seen. The Great Hypostyle Hall, row upon row of monolithic papyrus fashioned pillar… after pillar… after pillar. It kind of made me wonder what all the fuss about the Parthenon was. 134 pillars in all. The hall was designed by Pharaoh Amenhotep III (1390 – 1352 BC) and actually built by Seti I (1294 – 1279 BC). Margaret and I were quite happy to wander through this hall for about 10 minutes, just staring upwards in awe. The Hypostyle Hall looked particularly impressive as the rising sun caught the tops of the columns. One such photo is below.

The Great Hypostyle Hall in morning sun, Amun Temple, Karnak 

After losing our bearings and each other in the Hypostyle Hall, we made our way into the court beyond the 3rd Pylon, and then headed south into the Cachette Court. More magnificent statues at the 7th Pylon could be found here. We moved further along towards the 8th Pylon, and could not go any further as it was roped off. Well, that was until one of the unofficial Baksheesh peddlers made himself known, and urged us to go take a look at a number of Colossi (statues) beyond the 8th Pylon. It was actually worth a look as there is a Colossi of Amenhotep I there, that is near intact. Okay, so our resolve was not so steely, and I parted with more money. From now on our resolve would be steely.

We then headed East, taking in the Sacred Lake. As we walked back to the temple, we took great interest in the giant stone scarab beetle which stood in front of the 4th Pylon and a couple of obelisks dedicated to Queen Hatshepsut. I captured the picture below. The sky and colours were magnificent in the early morning sun.

Giant Scarab Beetle and Hatshepsut Obelisks, Karnak

As we headed further into the temple complex, it became quite clear that this site was a myriad of different temples and constructions, all with the purpose of revering various Theban gods and Pharaohs of the Middle and New Kingdoms. Bits and pieces had been added, removed, amended over time depending on the Pharaoh. At the eastern most edge of the complex, I avoided the calls of another tourism policeman to come take a look at something (see, I can be steely when I want to be) and instead climbed a small hillock, to grab a view of the entire temple complex.

Afterwards we followed a short boardwalk into the botanical gardens, followed by the pillared Great Festival Hall of Tuthmosis III. Took a look inside the Sacred Barque Sanctuary, before gazing up at Hatshepsut’s Obelisks at point-blank range. At this point we were able to look along the East-West corridor of the temple, which lead back through the Great Hypostyle Hall, to the Great Court, revealing a concourse now teeming with tourist buses and their hoards, and then, further to the reddish escarpment that imprisons the Valley of the Kings on the West Bank. Our peace and quiet would soon be shattered, but thankfully we had been fortunate enough to experience the temple at a relaxed pace. This pretty much completed our 2 hour visit, so we made our way back the way we had come, taking one last look at those rams-headed sphinxes, before heading to the Il Cornish and our waiting taxi.

Karnak Temple is truly magnificent. It left me scratching my head** as to why I hadn’t really heard of this place before. Perhaps it reveals a stunted education on my part (just like my height some may say, now that was indeed a problem at school). But the magnitude and impression this place leaves, in my view, means it should be elevated in stature, placed front of mind with students, indeed made a landmark as recognisable as the Sydney Opera House, Big Ben, or dare I say the Pyramids themselves. Maybe it already it is and I’m just plain ignorant. Anyhow it’s worth a look! At this point, Ahmed Mohammed Ali, our taxi driver was waiting patiently for us to take us into Luxor and immerse ourselves in another of Luxor’s magnificent temples – the surprisingly named Luxor Temple.

** No, I didn’t have nits. In fact I had a run-in within an Egyptian barber days earlier, and elected to have my head shorn, revealing a parasite free scalp of the ginger stubble persuasion.

It was 8:15am when we visited Luxor Temple. Whereas Karnak Temple is set back from the Cornish with its impressive concourse, Luxor Temple is right in your face, when you visit the East-bank. One of it’s colonnades (Amenhotep III) runs parallel to the Nile, which is quite impressive. Luxor and Karnak Temples were actually connected in days gone by, particularly when it came to worshiping the Gods of Amun-Ra. This was an interesting point of note. Ra, the Sun God was a God of lower or Northern Egypt, and Amun, was a God of Creation and of Upper Egypt. So a combined deity represented all of Egypt. Should be noted here, that Upper Egypt is in fact the south of Egypt and is geographically the upper part of the country given the Nile flows from south to north, and ends in the lower Nile delta, ultimately flowing into the Mediterranean. Luxor Temple was largely built by the Pharaoh Amenhotep III, but the prolific Ramses II certainly left his mark on the place, with statues and reliefs of himself just about everywhere you look.

Ramses II and beyond Colonnade of Amenhotep III, Luxor Temple

Luxor Temple was as fascinating as Karnak, although on a smaller scale. It may have been more prudent to visit Luxor Temple on a different day to Karnak, given that a smaller temple visit after Karnak does diminish its impact somewhat.  That said, Luxor temple shouldn’t be missed. One of the certain highlights was the avenue of sphinxes, which stretches for a good couple of hundred metres, and runs from the temple entrance and in parallel with the Nile. In it’s hey-day, this avenue ran the full 3km, connecting it to the temple in Karnak.

One of many Sphinxes from the Avenue of Sphinxes, Luxor Temple

So at around 9:30am our Luxor Temple fix had been reached. We made our way out of the temple, through the eastern most exit, and onto the streets of Baksheesh central. As soon as the locals see any kind of western tourists on their own, they hone in on you with the voracity of a mosquito to a varicose vein. Little kids, mostly men.

Little Kid: "Baksheesh!"

Me: "La, shu-krun!"

No thank you in Arabic, very useful phrase. This little blighter gave up.

Random Man: "You want horse and carriage ride?"

Horse and buggy, and complimentary haggler are a common sight in Luxor.

Me: "No, we want a taxi!"

Random Man: "Oh you want taxi?"

Enter taxis from left right and centre, crawling the pavement in near lock-step with you.

Me: "Doh! We already have a taxi booked. Sorry!"

Random Taxi Dude: "You want taxi? I take you. I take you!"

Keep on walking. Keep on ignoring.

Random Taxi Dude: "You want taxi. I take you. I take you!"

Taxi-man very annoyed.

Enter Mohammed Ali, swinging his blue and white mean machine a few yards in front of us, and nearly collecting a souvenir stall in the process. Saved by Mohammed Ali. Cool!

As for the remainder of this Temple Tale. We got back to the Sofitel Karnak hotel at around 10am, in time to have a second helping of buffet breakfast, before whiling away the afternoon swimming and reading beneath the shade of date palms and a glorious Luxor sun. It was indeed cool!

The key to a successful haggle, is firstly, to know roughly how much you should be paying, and secondly, be prepared to walk if the service provider is not seeing how much of a bargain your offer is. Margaret demonstrated this admirably on our arrival at Luxor airport. Leaving the terminal, the taxi rank proved to be a huddle of Galabiyya garbed Egyptian men awaiting tourist fodder. (A Galabiyya is an Egyptian man’s full-length robe). We had done some research and knew that our hotel, the Sofitel Karnak, was about a 10km run from the airport. The taxi haggler, claimed it was 17km from the off, and that it was a 35 EGP fare per person. Knowing full well, that 35 all in was a fair price, Margaret stepped in as chief negotiator. "No, 10km it is, and we will pay 40 EGP. No more!". The ultimatum delivered so early is probably not in the way of Egyptian haggling etiquette, but it was about 1am, and we just wanted to be on our way. Margaret was cutting to the chase. "No, No, No! Came the reply of the taxi haggler, and he came in with another offer of 60 EGP!". Margaret gave him a look that said, you aren’t fooling me boyo, and replied with a stiff "40 EGP, no more!" Before the taxi haggler could even think about saying no, Margaret had the suit case in one hand, gave me a nod, turned on the heel and exclaimed "Right, we are going to get a bus!". Of course, the beauty of this, is that we knew nothing about any buses running at this hour. At this point, much to the chagrin of the taxi haggler, he caved and committed to a fare of "40 EGP! All in!". This you need to repeat a few times, just to make sure he doesn’t say 40 GBP at the other end. And so it was, moments after arriving in Luxor, Margaret had outwitted a haggler, and our luggage was loaded in the back of a blue and white clapped out car, petrol fumes so strong they threatened to overpower if not for the stiff Nile breeze that relieved as we hurtled north-west to Karnak.

Sofitel Karnak is a fantastic hotel, perched on the east-bank of the Nile, and only a few kilometres North of Luxor itself. Suffice to say, much of the 6 days we had in Luxor, was availing of the swimming pool it’s pool-side service and whiling away the hours reading. However, when in Luxor, there are a few points of interest that are indeed worth seeing. First and foremost is the Valley of the Kings, the ancient necropolis of Thebes. Yes, Thebes was the former name of Luxor, it would appear that the name Luxor came from the Arabic, Al-Uqsur, which means "The Palaces", named after the magnificent Theban temples that are its hallmark. We arranged our visit to the Valley of the Kings, through the front desk of the hotel, and so our tour guide ending up being the concierge’s brother Yusuf. We set off early, at around 6am for our visit to the Valley of the Kings, this due to the stifling heat. We headed south, towards Luxor first, watching the morning balloons rise over the Valley of the Kings from our vantage point on the east bank of the Nile. Our taxi was in town briefly, before veering west and across a recently constructed bridge, which took us to the West Bank and home to the sheer red cliffs that mark the perimeter of the Valley of the Kings.

The first site of ancient Thebes that greets you when visiting the West Bank is the impressive Colossi of Memnon. This was the site of the funerary temple of Amenhotep III and apparently larger than Karnak and Luxor temples. Alas all that remains are these two towering faceless statues, given the temple was geographically challenged and lay on the Nile flood plain. It was all but washed away. Still these two statues act as fine stewards for this temples memory.

The Colossi of Memnon, Luxor West Bank 

Now Amenhotep III, was a New Kingdom Pharaoh. The Pyramids of Giza in Cairo are from the Old Kingdom, so Thebes and it’s ancient sites are more recent than the Pharaonic remnants in Cairo. In fact Thebes was at one point the capital of Egypt, and the Pharaohs ruled all of Egypt from this city. Additionally, they had moved on from building pyramids as funerary complexes and instead had a penchant for building elaborate tombs in the Valley of the Kings instead. Maybe they couldn’t command as much man-power as their Old Kingdom predecessors, but, literature suggests the remoteness of the Valley of the Kings, was meant to act as a good source of protection from grave plunderers. Although, the reality was not the case.

A short ride from the Colossi of Memnon, passing some Alabaster shop come tourist traps, our driver entered the infamous Valley of the Kings. The crowd puller in the valley is certainly Tutankhamun. It was in this valley, that Howard Carter in 1922, unearthed one of the most significant archeological finds ever, excavating the boy Pharaoh’s mummy and golden relics from a near intact tomb. The Tutankhamun trump card is evident when you walk into the tourist centre. A short video takes you through Carter’s efforts in uncovering Tut’s secrets. Shortly thereafter, a tourist train hauls you a few hundred yards up a winding incline to the centre of the valley. Our guide, Yusuf had tickets for 4 tombs. A 3 tomb ticket allowed us to visit Ramses III, Ramses IV and Tuthmosis III, and of course we purchased an extra ticket to visit Tutankhamun’s tomb.

My expectation of a tomb, was perhaps a dank cubby hole, which had long since been relieved of it’s mummy contents and treasure. Wasn’t I blown away! First up we entered the tomb of Ramses III. The intricacy of the hieroglyphics etched from wall to wall, and the colours of the reliefs were astounding. (A Relief is the name given to an ancient painting or etching on the tomb walls, Although, our guide, bizarrely referred to them as Skins. Took a while for us to figure this one out.)  Ramses III reign as Pharaoh was from 1184-1153 BC. It was awesome and unfathomable; standing inside a 3000 year old tomb, looking at such artwork from a vanished, almost alien civilisation. After Ramses III, we visited the tomb we had really come to see, that of Tutankhamun. Tutankhamun reigned from 1336-1327 BC. So he was a good hundred years before Ramses III and IV. As with all tombs, no photographs were allowed, but in this case, cameras were confiscated at the entrance, so we left ours with Yusuf. Reading much of the literature about Tutankhamun’s tomb in advance, many a pundit writes that the tomb is not as spectacular as many others in the valley. They are probably right from an artwork perspective but, nothing can match the atmosphere of this tomb, especially given that the mummy of Tut himself lies insitu wrapped in cloth behind a glass petition, and then at the opposite end, the original red-granite sarcophagus holds the magnificent outer gold coffin. The reliefs around the tomb are extremely vivid, and virtually untouched. The other tombs we visited in the valley were vandalised by the early Coptic Christian’s who scraped many of the faces away of the Egyptian gods from the relief work. Not Tutankhamun’s tomb, it didn’t suffer this. For this reason, this tomb  leaves you with an indelible impression. Definitely the highlight. Imagine how Howard Carter felt when he discovered the tomb in 1922?

Outside Tutankhamun’s tomb, the Valley of the Kings 

Shortly, after we visited the tomb of Ramses IV. His reign was from 1153-1147 BC. Another fabulous tomb with amazing relief work. The final tomb in the valley we visited was that of Tuthmosis III. This Pharaoh reigned from 1479-1425 BC so was the oldest of the tombs we actually visited. Like Tutankhamun’s tomb it was also one of the most memorable. To get to this tomb, you need to ascend a narrow staircase, between two imposing buttresses of limestone. You then descend into this tomb via a series of levels, and the humidity is quite a shock from the dry heat outside. If I was Tuthmosis III, I would certainly be grateful for the better air-conditioning in the Egyptian museum in Cairo, where his mummy now resides, as it was quite stifling in this tomb. That said, the reliefs and artwork in this tomb are overwhelming in their intricacy. Definitely a must see in the valley.

A lone tomb entrance, the Valley of the Kings

At only 8am, the sun was searing, and so we left the Valley of the Kings to take in a few more sights of ancient Thebes. Next on the list was Deir al-Bahri, the site of the infamous Queen Hatshepshut’s temple. Notorious not just from ancient times, but more recently as 1997, when 58 tourists were gunned down by Islamic Militants in a disgusting massacre. The site is literally almost on the other side of the mountain from the Valley of the Kings. Despite it’s recent macabre history, this temple is spectacular. It’s literally built into the side of the red lime-stone cliffs. Hatshepsut ruled as Pharaoh from 1473 to 1458 BC. By accounts, it seemed she ruled by default, as the true successor (Tuthmosis III) of her husband Tuthmosis II, was too young to rule at the time. I was a little confused as to the history. Whatever the case there seemed to be some incestuous activity going on. The temple is built over 3 terraces, and for setting alone is worth a visit, let alone the amazing history that surrounds it.

Temple of Hatshepsut 

The heat at this point was exceptionally tough to bear. It must have been around 10:00am when we left the temple, and we gratefully took a drink in a cafe at the site entrance. Shortly thereafter, we informed our guide Yusuf, that we did not want to go to a mind numbing Alabaster shop, but instead we wanted to make a bee-line for the Valley of the Queens. Here we visited 3 tombs. Well, in actual fact there are 4 tombs that you could possibly visit at this site, but the most spectacular, that of Nefertari, is closed to the public. Nonetheless, the Tomb of Amunherkhepshef fails to disappoint. Amunherkhepsef was one of the sons of Ramses III and died very young, 10 years old in fact. The reliefs in this tomb were simply stunning. It was one of the few tombs we had seen that had suffered little from religious vandalism. Of note, also was the mummified foetus in one corner of the tomb, which apparently came from another archeological dig. We also visited the tombs of Khaemwaset and Titi. We would have loved to visit Nefertari’s tomb, but it was closed to a private tour of American delegates. The artwork is so exquisite in this tomb, they actually do limit the number of visitors there. We took a look out to see if we recognised anyone famous in the American delegation, but saw no one of note, as they hurriedly left the site in their police escorted convoy.

The Valley of the Queens 

That concluded our visit to the West Bank and ancient Thebes. We gratefully returned to our hotel, to take respite from the scorching 38 degrees Celsius temperature and spent the afternoon between sleep, good read, and swimming.

The following day, we took a felucca ride along the Nile about an hour just before sunset, say around 5pm. This was a relaxing jaunt, and revealed much of the way of life of the locals, who very much rely on the Nile for their agriculture and transport. The felucca is an Egyptian sail-boat, and we had two accomplished hands in Amon and Captain Cook (I didn’t catch his Arabic name). What was particularly fascinating was to observe how devout Muslims they were. At one point during the sail, the affable Captain Cook climbed onto the bow of the boat, sat on his knees and then began praying, bowing his head assiduously towards Mecca. Devout Muslims pray up to 5 times a day, answering the call of the Muezzin from as early as 4:30am. Below are a few people photos I took from the sail.

Captain Cook, Felucca Navigator 

Amon, Felucca First Mate 

Agricultural Life on the Banks of the Nile

Cairo hits you as soon as you enter the arrivals hall at its International airport. Well, if you have arranged a tour and your agent is there to greet you, then perhaps it’s more of a slight caress across the jowls. But we hadn’t arranged any such thing, and so willingly ran the gauntlet of haggling taxi drivers, in search of a ride to our hotel. It was pretty late when we landed and the last thing we wanted to do was haggle. "Can’t we cut to the chase please?" Fortunately, we had read up before hand and knew what fare to pay, and so it became a pretty amusing exercise to hear the outlandish fares being thrown at us. Margaret stood her ground and found a chap, Ahmed, with a limousine, who was prepared to get us to our hotel for 80 Egyptian pounds. Now, limousine is a bit of a stretch, not because it took up half a street in length, but because it was in fact just an ordinary sedan. The word taxi is reserved for the little black mobile Molotov cocktails of the Lada persuasion, as we discovered later. Our hotel, the Sofitel Maadi, was in a southern suburb of Cairo, called El Ma’adi and about a 30km run from the airport, so 80 EGP, a fraction north of 7 GBP, was a fair price by local standards.

Leaving the gaggle of taxi men behind us, our stretch limo left the airport, heading south through the suburb of Heliopolis, following a sweep of road, past Islamic Cairo, and then the walled Citadel, before finally hugging the Nile, Il Cornish, the remainder of the way to El Ma’adi. Despite the late hour, traffic was not just busy but beyond chaotic. Lanes are marked on the road, but most drivers seem to prefer to straddle the line-markings and not to use their indicators, (probably because they don’t work) as a more proven method is to simply give the driver in front, side or rear a blast of your horn to let them know that you have already begun moving. A little more unnerving was the fact that seat-belts are deemed unnecessary in Cairo, which Margaret expressed concern on to the driver: to the response "No problem in Cairo madam!" Thankfully, we arrived at our hotel in one piece around 1am. Shortly after, we had checked in and also arranged a day tour of Saqqara and the Giza Pyramids for the following morning. 8am start.

Up early with a groan. Saqqara, lies about 30km south of Cairo city and is the ancient necropolis of Memphis, which in it’s heyday was the centre of Egypt. Having only a few meager pickings of Egypt’s ancient history, it suddenly dawned on me, how old the Pharaoh civilisation was and how long their realm spanned for. In short there are 3 periods of Pharaoh history, which are divided into the Old Kingdom, Middle Kingdom and New Kingdom. Saqqara and the Pyramids of Giza are from the Old Kingdom era. Saqqara is quite significant, because it’s focal point, the magnificent Step Pyramid, was the first stab at building a pyramid, and it was a bit of an afterthought really. The pyramid was built gradually over time, and has the honour of being the world’s oldest stone monument. Technically, the Step Pyramid is not the first official pyramid, given it’s stepped countenance. The first true pyramid is in fact the Red Pyramid, a little further to the south of Saqqara in Dahshur.  The Step Pyramid and the entire funerary complex of the 3rd Dynasty Pharaoh, Zoser, was very fascinating. Zoser’s architect Imhotep built the thing in around 2650 BC. That’s pushing near 5,000 years old. It’s beyond difficult to fathom the scope of time. Of course the Step Pyramid is the most visible landmark in a vast necropolis where the subjects of Zoser were buried. The entrance to the site is through a pillared Hypostyle Hall, which leads to the Great South court. I particularly liked this limestone wall adorned with a frieze of cobras, which seemingly eyed the Step Pyramid. The cobra is one of the ancient symbols representing Egypt, our guide informed.

A Frieze of Cobras and Zoser’s Step Pyramid

Our Egyptian guide to Saqqara and Giza, was a bloke by name the of John. Quite a surprising name for Egypt, given it’s near 90% Muslim demographic. In fact John was not a Muslim, and actually a Coptic Christian. The Coptic’s separated from the Catholic church eons ago, and what was interesting to learn, that in the first few hundred years of AD, Egypt was in fact Christian. The word Coptic is one that simply means Egyptian. What fascinates further about Egypt is that throughout history they have been ruled by the Romans, Arabs, the Ottoman Turks, Alexander the Great, and have even had governance from the French and the British. But back to Saqqara, one other little thing we discovered on this visit, is that when a local says "Welcome", and then insists you have a photo with him, or indeed he may show you some nook and cranny of the ancient site, then this comes with it a tax. We discovered this pretty quickly, and in fact just about everywhere you go in Egypt, someone is hitting you for cash, or as they call it "Baksheesh!". I’m not sure what the Arabic translation for this word is, but it pretty much means "money for nothin’". The photograph below is one such "Baksheesh"  moment.

A Baksheesh Moment, Saqqara

Leaving Saqqara we headed back to Cairo and to Giza. It was around 10:30am and already a stifling 37 degrees Celsius. Our driver took us through some side streets of Saqqara, revealing very impoverished conditions. One particular road followed an irrigation canal (fed by the Nile) which was swamped in rubbish and other refuse. Houses were ramshackle buildings to say the least, and the other thing that struck me, was that even a short distance from the city, much of the transport was by donkey.  Donkey carts, laden with agricultural produce and other wares was a very common sight. Another world!

The Pyramids of Giza, one of the 7 ancient wonders of the world, and the only one which still stands today, loom above the urban haze of sprawling Cairo. This was the sight which greeted us after navigating the southern suburbs from Saqqara. It’s a bit strange seeing the Pyramids for the first time. My first memory of the Pyramids, was from the Australian film, Gallipoli, and so I had visions of the Pyramids rising from the middle of a sweeping desert, as opposed to the urban circus that is Giza. After visiting a Giza perfumery, and taking some respite from the heat, my desert expectations of the Pyramids were somewhat appeased when our driver brought us to the Giza plateau at the base of the largest pyramid, Khufu (or Cheops). Not without some Egyptian antics though. The road that leads to the site entrance is crawling with camel and horse ride touts. They are quite brazen, and rather nonchalantly stand in front of an oncoming car, with the view to stop the driver, take the opportunity to swindle him/her into heading to one of their nearby stables, so the driver’s passengers (tourists no doubt) can take in a camel ride. Our driver was having none of it, and called this particular camel-peddlers bluff, driving right through. The camel guy stepped away at seemingly the last second, and so we arrived at the Khufu Pyramid, a little bemused. Our guide had secured us tickets to the Giza pyramids site, and also a ticket to go inside the Khufu Pyramid – yes, go inside. This was a bit of a coup, given literature suggested an 8am queue was required to get a ticket to visit the inside of Khufu. Apparently, tickets are limited to 300 a day, but as our guide acknowledged, money usually opens closed doors in Egypt.

The sheer enormity of feat that it was to build the pyramids of Giza was not lost on me. The limestone blocks are enormous, and as to how they managed to stack these blocks, one on top of another at a precise angle, creates awe and near disbelief at how 4,500 year old Pharaoh technology and co-ordinated human effort could have achieved this. Visiting the inside of the Khufu pyramid was as surreal as it was claustrophobic. John, our guide, took care of our cameras, as these were not allowed inside. The entrance to Khufu, a few flights of hewn stone from the base of the pyramid, is like entering an ancient mine. A few ducks of the head at first, and then this leads to a board walk of sorts. Perhaps a board-haunch is more fitting though, as it is steeply inclined at around 35 degrees (no I didn’t have my protractor with me…left it in the hotel), and the Khufu visitor has to hold onto a support rail either side and haul themselves up, making sure to watch their head. The first incline was the most claustrophobic. After this, it opened up into a large narrow cavern allowing you stand upright on yet another steeply inclined ramp until you reached the top and to the King’s burial chamber. The entrance to the chamber required a virtual crawl (virtual for ginger short-arses and a definite crawl for taller folk), and there you were, 100 metres above the base of the pyramid and in a very bare granite chamber. A lone empty sarcophagus was at one end. My initial reaction was, "was that it?" But, then the reality check dawned. We were inside the largest and oldest Pyramid of Giza, which had it’s construction completed in 2570BC. Okay, so that was a very sobering thought of coolness.

Pyramid Panorama, L-R: Khufu, Khafre, Menkaure

Descending was much easier than going up. Probably because I knew what to expect in terms of claustrophobia, and more so because it would be quite a relief seeing outside again. Irrational thoughts of being entombed in this elaborate limestone grave were gnawing away at me, until we alighted the last ramp, and could see daylight peeping ahead of us. At this point, one of the Pyramid officials, took Margaret and I to one side and urged us to go and take a look at something of interest. At which point he showed us another ramp, this one descending into the bowels of the pyramid. This was closed off to the public, thankfully. For some reason the thought of descending a narrow shaft was about as appealing as shovelling camel guana. We thanked the official of the Baksheesh persuasion, and hurried out of Khufu, before he had time to press us for dosh. Our guide was waiting for us with a camel driver. We declined the invitation, as we had had the camel ride experience in Broome, Western Australia years ago, and figured it was the same hump, different sandpit. Man, up-sell, cross-sell, side-sell, these Egyptians hit you for everything. It brought a whole new meaning to Pyramid selling.

At this point, we headed back to the car, and took the Giza plateau road, which traverses the rear of Khufu’s pyramid, sweeps past Khafre’s Pyramid and then further out, to a vantage point, where all 3 pyramids of Giza: Khufu, Khafre and Menkaure can be viewed in a panorama of frantically snapping tourists. We joined the camera melee quite happily. It was a magnificent view. Giza desert plateau, all 3 pyramids and the smaller Queen’s pyramids, backlit by the urban pall of Cairo. Khafre was the son of Khufu, and his pyramid was built on higher ground than that of his father, although, despite it being smaller in height, the illusion is that it is larger. It also has some if it’s original polished lime-stone casing at it’s peak. Was kind of disappointing to learn, that all the pyramids used to have this covering, but it was taken away over time as part of the materials for building mosques and temples. It would have been an incredible sight seeing these polished pyramids glinting in the Egyptian sun.

Afterwards, we drove back towards the pyramids and to the Sphinx, that enigmatic icon of ancient Egypt and just about every tourist brochure you lay your hands on. It was later afternoon when we visited, and the Sphinx was almost in near silhouette as the sun was descending behind it and the pyramids of Khafre and Khufu. Although smaller than I thought it would be, the image of Sphinx and pyramids was still a feast for the eyes. It is thought the Sphinx was of Khafre’s era and is meant to be his face, atop that of a lion’s body. Was kind of thinking, why did they use a lion, when there aren’t any lions in Egypt? Then I thought, the English get away with using the lion as a national symbol, so why not the Egyptians? Well, jesting aside, Egypt has a better story. Lions used to abound in Northern Africa 4000 years ago, but have since been pushed deeper into Africa due to the expanding human population and hunting.

The Sphinx and Khufu (Cheops) Pyramid

The Sphinx closed to visitors right on 4pm, and so our day out visiting the ancient Pyramids and funerary complexes of Egypt drew to a close. Although, not before watching the antics of a couple of kids trying to flog their post-cards to the flock of tourists who were now filing out of the Sphinx site. Our guide has us on our way once again, and our driver successfully negotiated the 30 minute Cairo traffic frenzy, crossing the Nile river to our hotel in El Ma’adi. Maybe, that’s why Egyptians love a haggle, I thought. The same brazen attitude exercised in an Egyptian haggle certainly extends to their driving. Seems mandatory to be able to cut through traffic with the same hard-nosed flair as you would cut a deal on the streets. Basic Cairo survival skills! We had a late night flight to Luxor, and so a few hours to kill. For the next few hours then we watched the sunset over the Nile and Pyramids, before having dinner and reflecting on all that we had seen, before our 9pm limousine was due to arrive and take us to the airport.

Sunset over the Nile and Pyramids, El Ma’adi, Cairo

Our limousine arrived a few minutes earlier than expected, and so I was quite impressed with Egyptian efficiency initially, but this quickly abated. I greeted the driver and informed him in my few words of Arabic, that we were headed to the airport and to Terminal 1, or "wahid" as is the Arabic word. Terminal 1 is for domestic flights to exotic Egyptian destinations like Luxor, Hurghada, and Aswan. We left the hotel at about 9:00pm, to catch our scheduled Egypt Air flight at 11:20pm. It should only be a 45 minute run to the airport, based on our experiences of the night before, but Saturday evening traffic in Cairo, requires at least another 15 minutes more. The traffic was indeed chocker, particularly as we navigated an overpass over Islamic Cairo. Cars weaving their way in and out of one another like a game of Tetris on steroids. But we got the the outskirts of the airport in good enough time, at around 9:50pm. I urged the driver to head to Terminal "wahid" as he was shaping to head to Terminal 2, the International terminal. Margaret, was asleep to my left, dead to the world, and I watched the signs unfold before me. "Terminal 1 – Domestic", "Sharm-al-Sheikh – Hall 3", "All other departures – Hall 1 and 2". At this point, our driver had a brain implosion, which is quite generous, because it operates on the premise that he in fact had one.  We came to a security check-point and there were signs beyond clearly showing the direction to Halls 1 and 2. However, our driver stopped the car, reversed and came back the way we had come. I was a little perplexed as to why he hadn’t chosen to follow the sign. "No, this is not right one!". Okay, so he then stopped to ask a punter on the side of the street where Terminal 1 was. Our driver acknowledged this man for his informative advice, drove another 10 yards, stopped to ask another local the same question. Our driver acknowledged understanding, and then proceeded to go in the opposite direction that the signs "Halls 1 and 2" suggested to go.

Me: "Why are you going that way?"

Nutbag Driver: "That way is wrong. New terminal. It has changed."

Me: "Just follow the signs"

Minutes later we are driving on the outskirts of Cairo airport, in what can only be described as the cargo area. Yet, another stop by our driver, and another question to a random passer-by as to where Terminal 1 was. "Ah, yes, shu-krun!" More feigned understanding from our driver, and we turned into a freight container holding area. A few Egyptian men were huddled over a radio and Turkish coffee, probably wondering why this taxi come Egyptian limousine was in this part of the airport. Eventually, the driver twigged that maybe he was barking up the wrong date palm, and headed back in the direction he came. "Halls 1 and 2" I interjected repeatedly at increasing volume levels. At this point, Margaret had woken up and was nonplussed by the banter between me and the driver as to where we should be going. "Surely, the driver knows where he’s going!", Margaret implied. "Um, you were asleep, we had already crossed that bridge Maggie, and nuked it! This driver has all the direction of a tailless cat chasing it’s tail!"

Eventually, the signs for "Halls 1 and 2" appear again. "Shan’ Allah!" (Arabic for God Willing!) Our driver stopped, and emitted a grunt that could only be interpreted as "WTF are we?". I pointed at the sign a mere 2 metres from his face, which read in English "Halls 1 and 2" and was also written in Arabic.  "Follow the signs!". It was now 10:30pm and I was getting a little bit anxious that we were going to miss our flight care of this dimwit. He took another turn, we came to another check-point. He asked the guard. I interjected. "What are you asking him?"

Nutbag Driver: "Ohhhhhh!".

Dear Allah, a revelation had finally appeared to our driver. He turned the car around and simultaneously said to me "You were right!". I shook my head in disbelief. We followed the signs to Halls 1 and 2, and low and behold we arrived where we should have been 30 minutes earlier. A last reassuring question to an official "Luxor?" The guard nodded amidst our driver apologising profusely. The only tip I had for him, was know your own airport dude. Rather tense, we made our way through airport security, checked in, and headed to Gate 12 with 30 minutes to spare before our departure. I noted a few Egyptian men, praying just beyond the security check-point. 3 of them kneeling on a mat, foreheads touching the mat in unison, bowing metronome like towards Mecca. Felt, like joining them and thanking Allah that we’d somehow made it. Now we were off to Luxor.